A book a day: Ottessa Moshfegh: Mc Glue

Original language: English
Original title: Mc Glue
Translation: Inmaculada C. Pérez
Year of publication: 2014
Valuation: Alright

I have to admit that a certain author profile has the quality of attracting me to their works. Nor am I going to deny that the promotional apparatus of the publishers does its job and, in the case of Ottesa Moshfegh, both Eileen and My Year of Rest and Relaxation had enough appeal to capture my humble attention, although in the case of this last I appreciated a certain unanimity among its readers that made me hope for a certain jump and that resulted, an equation that does not usually fail, in a certain disappointment. Despite this, Moshfegh seemed to me to be an author to follow, due to her youth and attitude and the realization that literary careers can fluctuate somewhat.

First setback: in the world of sashes and promotional subtlety (or not so subtle), this Mc Glue Published in Spanish in 2024, it is a first novel. It is not clear (it happened to me a year ago with Mairal and Asteroid) if the inside flap is not accessed, so the mistake is, even if only sibilly, too easy. This is not the novel following one year away… but the debut of its author. A hoax? Well, each one will decide, but, with a month to go until Sant Jordi, and from a writer who already generates some expectation, well, let’s leave it and let’s not get into speculation.

Mc Glue, Aside from these reluctances, it is, at the very least, a brave novel in its approach. Nick Mc Glue is locked in a cabin on a ship, back in 1851. Guarded by sailors while the ship he is sailing on heads to the port where he will be handed over to stand trial for, they say, he has murdered his friend Johnson. This, friends, is a psychological novel where we witness the entire reflection of Mc Glue who is stunned and confused about the events, and its 140 pages (a first part on the ship and a second already on land, receiving visits from his mother and lawyer) represent an example of what would be called stream of consciousness, since even the dialogues are mere handles to evaluate the progression of the character, erratic and brooding, insecure at all times due to the effects of alcohol, the past and the present, something which ascribes this debut work to several currents at the same time: the alcoholic narrative, the personal confession of a certain depth, the claustrophobic situation typical of novels sailors With which one can refer to both Melville and Saer (very faint effluvia of The expert may arise here) and even to emblematic works such as The tunnel, but I am sorry to warn that these references are only thematic. I fear that Moshfegh overextends the approach and turns the text into a kind of suspense about the events that I see as unresolved and that leaves the value of this work as merely testimonial of (and I insist on the courage of the author in choosing this scenario ) a career start.